Notes on Leadership
by Riordan and Lark
Summary: It's another quiet day at Atlantis...too quiet, in fact. When McKay discovers people missing, the Atlantis crew is left to try and figure out the mystery. Are the people really missing or has McKay finally lost it?
1. Writers' Block

Notes on Leadership

_**Notes on Leadership**_

_**By Lark**_

Dr. Rodney McKay sat at his desk, looking dismally at the page lying in front of him. He picked up the pen near his hand and put it to the paper. His hand held still, almost as if it was refusing to bend to his will. McKay made a face at it, thinking of words-any words that happened to be nearby. If he could manage to capture them and then force them to arrange themselves into a coherent sentence...then he'd have his first sentence. Unfortunately, the only word that came to mind was _ternia_, a word that he had found on an Ancient tablet. The closest translation he could come up with was "swimming without a flotation device." This, obviously, was perfectly useless to him. He knew he should be cataloging some of the other artifacts that they had brought back from ruins on one of the planets they had visited earlier in the week. He _had _to get this started. In a fit of temper, he slammed the pen down and folded his arms across his chest. He twisted in his chair. Nothing happened.

He seized the pen and threw it like a long pass for a touchdown. The disturbance it created- the cascading papers and the metallic crash of paperclips hitting the floor- was quite satisfactory. He returned to his seat and resumed his furious brainstorm. Why wouldn't the words come! He shifted again...

Suddenly, something clicked on in his mind. His eyes lit up and he grabbed for the pen, but his fingers found only air. Where did it get off to? McKay could feel the inspiration slipping away. He had to write it down! His hands madly tossed the fallen papers aside. Where was it? His fingers caught hold of the pen and silently, he was congratulating himself. The thought was almost gone, but if he could just write it down...He set the pen down to the page and-

"Hey, McKay!"

It was gone. With a face covered with despair, shoulders slumped, he turned to face the man standing in the doorway. He let the pen fall from his limp fingers.

"What?" He let all the angst seep through every pore in the word.

Dr. Carson Beckett was taken aback by the unexpected reception his greeting had received. He blinked uncertainly, then asked, "Do ye just want me to com' back later, then?"

McKay lifted his head and straightened his posture, suddenly embarrassed about his friend seeing him in such a state. He cleared his throat.

"No, no. It's fine. What do you want, Carson?"

Still a little uneasy, Beckett shifted on his feet.

"I was just wonderin' if you had those repairs finished on the computer in infirmary."

"Yes, they're finished." McKay plopped into his chair dejectedly. "Anything else?"

Beckett recognized the same page that he had seen many times before. Even in the times before, only the word "leadership" blazoned the page.

"Ah, you're not workin' on that again?"

McKay nodded sadly.

"But last time, I just couldn't find the spark."

"Last time, you nearly took off a man's head with that pad of paper!"

"That technician was asking for it with those sloppy calculations..."McKay muttered to an empty coffee cup he pulled from his desk. He caught himself and looked up at Carson. "Yeah, that was pretty bad," he added quickly, replacing the mug back on his desk apologetically.

"Aye. Well, I'll leave you to it. Good luck." With those words, he turned from the doorway and disappeared. McKay picked up the pen again. He couldn't force a smile at it, not even a friendly grimace.

"Come on," he told himself. "People write memoirs all the time. Just pull yourself togeth-"

"Oh, Rodney."

He was back.

Couldn't he tell when a man had to concentrate on important matter at hand- without having a Scot run in and completely derail his train of thought?

"What?" He was frustrated now. Didn't he know that he needed peace and quiet?

"Oh, there was somethin' I was goin' to tell you..." The doctor's words were drawn out.

McKay felt a twinge of annoyance. He saw that spark of mirth in his friend's eyes. Yes, though not an outspoken man, that Beckett sure enjoyed bothering him sometimes. A little too much, he thought.

"Oh, Elizabeth's wantin' to see you as soon as you're ready."

"Fine," McKay retreated. He dropped the pen on the desk as Carson vanished again, oblivious to the chaos he had caused. Before he turned to go and find Elizabeth, he glared at the page and pointed a threatening finger.

"I'm not letting you off so easy. I'll be back."

--

Carson, still walking back to the infirmary, was smiling to himself. It was a peaceful morning. He stopped in a pool of light that cascaded through a large window. The warmth enveloped him softly and he paused, savoring the moment. It reminded him of a fresh summer day in Glencoe, fishing with his father on a shining loch. Surrounded by shimmering water, he was often reminded of home. He snapped back to reality as he saw a shadow pass over as a cloud obscured the sun. For an instant, there was a small chill from the sudden darkness. However, the sunlight returned and he continued on, feeling a little disconcerted. He hoped that the sun would continue to shine on their intrepid back of explorers and not be caught under a shadow.

--

Sheppard sat at his own desk, trying to write up an anonymous ransom note for McKay's computer mouse. So far, he had successfully managed to convince the scientist that he had nothing to do with the disappearance. He had even offered condolences, saying that it had probably just scurried off looking for some cheese and would most likely return in its own good time. He chuckled to himself, enjoying his own game. McKay was too wound up to appreciate the joke of it all. He was always too uptight. Like the time when Sheppard and Zalenka had moved several ripe specimens of citrus to McKay's room and into several drawers. Well, the imminent Wraith attack may have had something to do with the flying book of quantum physics that barely missed his head, but he could have taken the joke with at least a teaspoon of humor. He settled back into his chair, trying to think of a way to make his handwriting look better. There would be no way for the scientist to catch on that it was him if the handwriting was legible. At least it would buy him time to run and hide before McKay recovered from the shock of learning that Sheppard's handwriting could, in fact, look better than his own. He put the pen to the paper, but failed to produce any marking on the page. Frustrated, he dropped the pen and rifled his hair with his hands.

"Hey, Sheppard."

Great. Just what he needed. He subtly slipped the page under a mission file that had only a few lines written on it. He turned around, trying to erase any sign of guilt that may have been found there.

"What, McKay?"

"Hey, um, I'm on my way to see Elizabeth and I think you're supposed to be there, too." He paused for a breath and his eyes found the pen in the major's hand. "Trying to write something?"

"Uh," John cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm a little behind on paperwork. I'm just...having trouble getting started."

"That's weird. I've been trying to write my memoir and I'm stuck."

"Your memoir?" Sheppard asked incredulously. Then again, he thought to himself, _Why should I be surprised?_

"Yeah, so my knowledge will be preserved for all posterity."

It was amazing how he could say that without the slightest sense of how egotistical that sounded.

"Right. I better get back to this."

"Don't forget- Weir wants to see you."

"Got it."

--

Rodney McKay turned and left the room, feeling chipper. He walked a few steps and then remembered that he had to tell Sheppard that he was also needed in the jumper bay. He turned on his heels, ducking his head back into the room.

"And Zalenka-" he cut off. His eye darted around the room and he felt a chill crawl down his spine. The room was completely empty and strangely cold. He took a tentative step into the room.

"Sheppard?"

There was no answer to his question. The reason for this was because there was no one there. A pen lay, unused, on top of a stack of papers. There was no writing on the page.


	2. Sleepwalking?

Notes on Leadership

Chapter 2

Rodney McKay felt a sense of emptiness as he looked at the room. It was all in order, whatever was considered order in Sheppard's book. A pile of mission reports sat on the desk, next to the papers and some pens. The lamp on the desk was off and the computer was on sleep mode, as if no one had ever been there. However, he was no pushover. He stepped into the room to investigate. What had just happened? He looked a second time around the room, and then a third time. Opening the door to the closet, he checked inside to make sure the major wasn't pulling another one of his tricks.

"Major?"

He shivered, taking in the cold of the room. Taking a deep breath, he tried the tested and true way to calm himself down. Rationalize.

It may have been just a figment of his imagination. He had been losing a lot of sleep lately. Perhaps the combination of too many long nights and too much coffee intake had affected his better judgment. He may have caught himself sleepwalking.

"That's it," he told himself. "It's just a somnambular episode."

Fairly confident in his reasoning, he decided to push it aside. He continued on down the hall to try and find Elizabeth. Besides, if he mentioned it to anyone, they might call him crazy. The last thing he needed was to be called a mad genius to his face, and not just behind his back.

He found Dr. Weir in the briefing room, sitting calmly and looking through some papers. Her composed demeanor contrasted sharply against how he felt. Feeling a little disturbed, he knocked gently on the doorframe.

"Hello, Rodney," she greeted him, looking up. Her smile faded, replaced by a look of concern. "Rodney, are you all right?"

"Yes, perfectly," the scientist responded, trying to convince himself that he was, in fact, perfectly all right. He cleared his throat officially. "Why?"

"You look so pale. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine," McKay told her firmly. "What did you want to see me about? Carson made it sound important."

"Oh, it's nothing really. Teyla thinks we should visit the Reinas. Apparently, it's another people group that the Athosians traded with. She thinks we might be able to barter for some supplies." Weir stood and joined him near the door.

"All right. Sounds reasonable. What did you need me for?"

"The last team brought back some interesting artifacts. I'd like you to take a look before someone accidentally vaporizes half the city or something in that vein."

McKay nodded and turned to leave. Just as he was rounding the corner, Weir called after him.

"Have you seen the major?"

McKay stopped and looked back at her, shrugging.

"Yes and no." With those words, he disappeared down the hall.

Hours later, McKay was working in his lab, looking over the various objects that had made their way to Atlantis. Most of it, as he saw it, was junk. There were no runes, no weapons, nothing even remotely useful to him- just art. At first, several assistants had been bustling about, trying to determine the function of some of the artifacts. Now, however, as the sun began to set, there was only one left. She had been working on a certain jar, trying to get the lid open. McKay didn't see the point, but allowed her to continue. Perhaps he was just irritable because of the morning's incident. It was still in the back of his mind, but it had dulled like the effect of a bad dream. By filling his mind with work, he hoped that it would simply go away. The faded scratchings on the object he held in his hand had at first appeared to be a language. Now he decided that it was merely the kindergarten project of some proud artist whose civilization had moved on several centuries ago. The faint markings were blurring.

Coffee. He needed coffee.

In an effort, he got up out of his chair and walked to the door. What time was it? He stretched lazily and headed for the cafeteria. He had made it a few steps when he remembered the girl in the lab. As he approached the lab, he called out.

"Oh, Jansen. You can go now and get-" He stopped as he strode into the room. All of the lights were off. He stepped further in and the lights came to life. Jansen was nowhere to be found. The same chill crept down his spine as he felt the same cold stillness in the room come over him. His eyes widened.

"Doctor McKay?" A voice came from behind him, making him jump a little.

"Yes?" He turned to face another young scientist standing there, holding several clipboards.

"Dr. Zalenka wanted me to come find you. He has a question about the Puddlejumpers."

"Tell him I'll be there in a minute." He took a deep breath and straightened his jacket. "Have you, by any chance, seen Ms. Jansen?"

The dark haired young man shook his head.

"Sorry, I haven't. Didn't see her all day, in fact."

"But, you were here earlier cataloguing these artifacts, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you didn't see her then?"

"No. I was so excited by some of those objects that I'm afraid I didn't really focus on who else was there," he answered. "Sorry. I better get going. I'll tell Dr. Zalenka you're coming."

McKay watched him go and then turned to the table where the young lady had been.

"She was right here!" he told himself, trying to make some sense out of the situation. Suddenly, he remembered the jar she had been working on. Pushing aside several artifacts, he looked for it, to no avail. McKay found himself feeling worried. "I couldn't have imagined it. It was there."

..."So, Carson, just tell me. Am I crazy?" McKay's voice sounded anxious.

"Fortunately not, I think," Carson paused as he inspected some test results a little closer. "On second thought, there might be..."

"Might be what?" McKay looked even more worried.

Carson closed the file quickly and the scientist saw the familiar glint in his eye.

"You can't scare me like that!" McKay protested. "This is no time for jokes!"

"Sorry, Rodney. Just thought a little humor might help." Beckett moved a little ways off to check the computer for the results of the final test, mumbling something about a quack doctor who said laughter was the best medicine. For a moment, there was silence, but it was quickly broken by McKay.

"So, I'm not crazy?"

"Yeh sound a little unsure of that, Rodney."

McKay took a deep breath and rolled his eyes.

"I'm not crazy."

"Well, that's good to hear, Rodney."

Both men turned as Dr. Weir entered into the infirmary, wearing a beaming smile. McKay stood, trying to appear like he hadn't just been having a conversation discussing his sanity. It was no use, though. Apparently, Carson had let her know about it.

"What's this all about?" she wanted to know.

"Look, I don't know if I've just happened to come across some troubles with sleep-walking or what, but all day, I've been talking to someone, I'll turn away, and when I look again, they're gone."

Weir's smile faded as she looked to Carson.

"I've done all the tests, but I can't find anythin' wrong. My prescription? You just need to rest, Rodney." He gave McKay a pat on the arm. Beckett then turned to Elizabeth. "Don't worry about a thing. He'll be as good as new after some sleep."

"Glad to hear it. We can't have one of our best scientists out of action- especially now that we've got lots of things to be done around here."

McKay frowned at the floor.

"Don't remind me," he groaned.

Elizabeth took her leave and left the infirmary, wishing them a good night. Carson looked over at McKay and nudged him.

"Well?"

McKay looked up, completely oblivious.

"What?" He blinked. "Oh, right. Sleep."

As the Canadian moved away, Beckett returned to his work. He, too, had a lot to do.

"And no coffee, understand?"

A suppressed groan came from the end of the hallway.

"Good night, Rodney," Carson returned, smiling.

The next day, Rodney McKay woke up refreshed. Well, as refreshed as someone who's lived on a constant intake of caffeine can be. There was a nice hot cup of coffee waiting for him and after all, there was a mission scheduled for the day. At least some things were coming back to normal. He stepped into the control room with his gear, dropping a snack into one of the many pockets on the front of his vest. Teyla and Ford were there, talking with Dr. Weir. It took him a minute to realize that they were not talking about the Reinas. When he approached, Weir looked up.

"Rodney? Have you seen Major Sheppard?"

Rodney was taken aback by the question.

"What do you mean? No one's seen him?"

"Not since yesterday. He's not answering on the headsets. We've sent out a search for him."

Teyla looked worried.

"It is not Major Sheppard's habit to arrive late for a mission. We are afraid something may have happened to him."

McKay's mind began to spin. Could this have anything to do with what happened yesterday? He had just demoted the memory to that of a vague bad dream instead of a major priority. Weir was still saying something about the mission. He forced his thoughts into a semi-coherent mass, like a herd of frightened cattle in a lightning storm. Once he got over the disconcertment that his mind could resemble anything like a rural scene, he comprehended the words that were so rare to hear.

"I'm afraid we'll have to postpone this mission until the major is found. Just stay nearby until we figure out what's going on."

McKay numbly walked back to his room. When he snapped out of the fog, he found himself sitting at his desk. With a resigned sigh, he pulled out the beginning of his memoir and clicked his pen.

"Why not?" he told himself. He had the time now. McKay stared at the page with the same old feeling that it just wasn't going to work. He chanced a quick glance at his watch. "Come on, just write one sentence." Putting the pen down to the paper, he wrote _Leadership is..._ and then he got stuck again.

It had been agonizing to write just those two words. If the whole memoir was going to be that bad, he'd give it up then and there. He looked at his watch again. He stared at it in disbelief. The time was the exact same as it had been minutes ago. It read 10:37 a.m. Not believing his eyes, he turned on his computer. The clock on the bottom toolbar read 9:56 a.m.

His mind began to slowly process what was going on. Something must have happened to cause his watch to stop. It could have been anything, but he could narrow down the options. It may have been exposure to water, but he was sure that he would have noticed if he had been more than thirty meters underwater. It must have been some kind of radiation. The Ancient artifacts hadn't all been catalogued or studied yet...

A voice broke into his thoughts as Weir came in over the intercom.

"Rodney? Are you there?"

"Yes?"

"Good, you're still here."

"Listen, Elizabeth," he interrupted. "I may have found something. But I'm not sure. Meet me in the infirmary."

Elizabeth found McKay in the infirmary, looking with Carson at some of the test results.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"I discovered that my watch wasn't working just a few minutes ago and determined that the only cause could be a sort of radiation. Now, I don't know if it came from one of those artifacts or from some other source, but there may be some trace of it from the tests that were done yesterday."

Weir looked a little lost, but trusted him enough to let him continue.

"There! Look, there's some traces of radiation in this scan."

"You're right. It's so small that it didn't show up much on this test." He looked closer, analyzing the readout. "It's nothin' I've ever seen."

McKay stepped back from the computer and began to pace, thinking hard. Weir came farther into the room.

"I'm afraid that we've got a problem."

Beckett and McKay both turned to her.

"Major Sheppard is still missing, and we've been looking all over the city. But that's not all. Six others are missing."


	3. Guess and Check

Notes on Leadership

Chapter Three

McKay's face lit up with the usual half smile that was common after a triumph. Dr. Weir and Beckett were a little confused at this display. When he saw the looks they were giving him, he explained.

"I'm not crazy! Something is really going on!" He looked expectantly for their response, but received the same incredulous stare. In a moment, his gaze rested on the floor and he realized the gravity of the situation. "Right. Moving on."

"This is really bad news, gentlemen. As the leader of this expedition, I'm responsible for each and every person in Atlantis. I can't sit around and do nothing when they go missing. Now, I need you to follow any leads that you have. The top ranking military officer is missing and several others. I want to know what's going on."

McKay and Beckett nodded, moving off to get to work.

McKay returned to his lab. Before he began, he pulled on some gloves. He hated them, but he felt safer with them when dealing with a radioactive artifact. He began running tests on several of the artifacts. He couldn't find the one that his lab assistant had been working with, but he found several others that looked like they might be the culprit. If he could find the one that was emitting the strange kind of radiation, then he'd be on the right track.

An hour passed with no success. There were dozens of artifacts. He knew that the odds of him finding the right one within a short amount of time were slim, but he had hoped that it wouldn't have taken so much time. He picked up one of objects from a far table. It was an interesting artifact, but wholly unremarkable. It was merely a thick disk a little larger than the size of his palm. A thin, swirling design of a shining blue element covered most of the surface, etched into the stone-like material. Besides the design, the artifact was, to be honest, nothing special. McKay was frustrated with it. There were no buttons, no moving parts, not even an inscription. He placed it on the scanner to begin testing it. While the computer worked hard to process the information, McKay stole a glance at his watch. A split second later, he remembered that his watch had died. Looking out the window proved to be a more accurate source of the time. The morning had passed by without a complaint. The day was still shining brightly on, like a summer afternoon. Clouds were still gathered over Atlantis, but they were the large, fluffy, non-threatening kind. Cumulus, McKay added mentally. For the time being, that was all the weather that he needed. He turned back to his computer, which had completed the tests. A small blinking box at the bottom of the screen caught his attention. It read _Traces of radiation found._ There was no time for a celebration, so McKay contented himself with a small self-congratulation.

Rodney then began to analyze the artifact with more depth. He began more tests, hoping that something would turn up that would give him a lead. It wasn't that he particularly missed having Sheppard around, but if the Wraith happened to drop by in the meantime, he would be very enthusiastic about leaving the Ancient city- in an enthusiastic hurry.

Elizabeth sat in the control room, waiting for the search teams to report back in. There had been no news concerning any of the crew that had vanished. She felt helpless. Despite all of the advances in technology that the Ancients had left behind, they still were at a loss when it came to finding lost people. In the past twenty minutes, three of the teams had returned with nothing to show for their search except sore feet. The remaining two had not returned, but their last report hadn't given any good news. Weir paced aimlessly from one side of the room to the other, not realizing that she was distracting several technicians that were working on a wiring panel that had blown several days before. They muttered to each other in Romanian and then continued with their job.

Elizabeth was about to call the teams when McKay's voice came over the intercom.

"Dr. Weir? You might want to come see this."

Elizabeth hurried down the science lab, the adrenaline making her steps quick and her mind race. She turned a corner, running over possible explanations that McKay might have come up with. She hoped that none of them involved the Wraith. Atlantis had more than enough trouble with them as it was. In moments, she was walking through the door to the science lab. McKay quickly glanced over some data on his computer and then turned to her.

"All right, Rodney. What have you got for me?"

"It's fascinating, really," McKay began. "It was really quite simple."

"Rodney, as much as I'd like to listen-"

"All right, all right." McKay looked a little disappointed with having to skip his introduction, but he cleared his throat and continued. "I've been analyzing the artifacts that we've managed to accumulate over time. Funny, we just pick things up and never really think about if they're dangerous or not...Anyway, this one here," he paused, gesturing towards the wholly unremarkable disc, "This one has traces of radiation."

"Is it dangerous?" Weir asked, slightly alarmed. Radiation was usually not something that one wanted to hang around with.

"As far as I can tell, no."

"No, it's safe," came a voice from behind Weir. Beckett, a lab readout in front of his face, came through the door, narrowly missing her. "Sorry, Elizabeth," he apologized. He handed the paper to McKay. "It's got just enough radiation for the computer to pick it up, but it's no worse than a wee bit of sunlight."

"So, why is this so important?" Weir asked, not seeing the point.

"Well, I just thought that it was interesting that the same radiation traces that showed up on my scan were found in this artifact..." he trailed off, hoping that she would grasp his meaning.

"So, you still don't know what's going on?"

McKay took a deep breath and pulled off his gloves. Admitting that he didn't know something was not a task he was especially good at.

"No...not really, no." He felt like that was a bad place to leave the conversation, so he picked it up again. "But there is a connection between what happened and this artifact...I think."

Dr. Beckett took back the readout and studied it a little more. He looked up at Weir and McKay, who were staring expectantly back.

"Well, from what ah can tell, this radiation is like nothin' we've come across before. That in itself is nothin' out of the ordinary, we being in another galaxy and all that, but it doesn't follow the same rules of standard alpha, beta, or gamma decay. Usually radiation has a pattern and a predictable half-life. This stuff doesn't. It doesn't affect anythin' that it touches. The radiation itself slowly fades away over time."

"What do you mean, "fades away"?" McKay wanted to know. "Fades away" was not exactly a concrete scientific term.

"That's just it. If it sits long enough on an object, it'll just disappear and leave no residual traces."

At that moment, a voice came over Weir's headset. She listened a moment, acknowledged it, and then turned to McKay and Beckett.

"Rodney, it looks like some of the city's systems are having some trouble. Our scanners are picking up anomalous readings and interference with communications."

"Where's Zelenka? Get him to look at the systems. I've still got work to do."

Weir nodded.

"I'll see if I can drag him away from the Puddlejumpers. It seems like everything around here is going haywire."

"The trouble is, where did those people go?" Carson spoke up. When Rodney and Elizabeth turned to look at him, he shrugged his shoulders. "People just don' disappear, you know."

"He's right. They couldn't have gone far. I mean, we're in the middle of an ocean!" McKay saw his point. "But who could have kidnapped these people? As far as we know, they haven't offended anyone. Major Sheppard perhaps, but certainly not the others..." His voice trailed off.

"Well, if you find anything else, let me know," Weir told him. "I need to get back to the Control Room. The last two search teams are due back soon."

She began to turn to leave the room when her eyes caught something bright. Small, glowing spots covered part of Carson's lab coat and his hands were shining. In shock, the doctor dropped the paper he was holding and looked at his hands in disbelief.

"Carson?" Weir called out. "What is that?"

"I don' know," he replied shakily.

Suddenly, a bright flash enveloped the entire room. For an instant, currents of blue tendrils swept by, reaching every part of the room. McKay threw an arm over his eyes to shield them from the bright light. The moment passed and he found himself still standing in the science lab with Weir beside him, dazed. All of the computers had turned off and the lights were dark. McKay's gloves and the lab readout had disappeared. Nothing had moved, except...

"Carson!"

The doctor was nowhere to be seen.

--

"So, people just don't disappear, eh?" McKay said bitterly. He was always snappy when situations suddenly took a turn for the worse. Elizabeth stood nearby, trying to figure out what they had seen.

"It was some kind of alien energy. Rodney, any ideas on what we were looking at?"

McKay poked a few keys on his keyboard, going over the data again.

"I'm not sure. This radiation might give us some clues, but there's no telling." His eyes scanned more of the data stream. "Wait...hang on."

Weir drew closer to the computer and looked over his shoulder.

"What is it?"

"It seems that the radiation that was on my clothes has completely disappeared, but the artifact still retains its original state." He leaned back in his chair for a minute. "What's the difference, though? Why would the radiation fade on everything else, but not the artifact?" He rolled his chair over to another computer. Just as he was about to start another test on the artifact, he turned to Elizabeth, who stood wonderingly in the middle of the room. "You might want to check back later. This could take some time."

"Just remember, Rodney," Weir reminded him as she left. "We don't know how much time we have."

An hour passed, filled with tests, frustration, and several trips to the cafeteria for coffee. Carson wasn't around to nag him about caffeine at the moment, so he decided to make the best of it. McKay, using what little data he had on the radiation and the artifact, began running simulations to see the affects of various kinds of energy on both of them. All of the trials failed miserably. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he knew that he hadn't found it yet. Taking a fortifying gulp of coffee, he sat back for a moment in his chair. What if he was looking with the wrong perspective? What were the connections? Why were only those certain people taken?

McKay, staring at the list of people who were now missing, tried to fill in the blanks. Besides Sheppard and Carson, the rest were scientists or assistants. Of those scientists, three of them had been on a mission, bringing back artifacts from a planet recently explored. The assistants had all helped in the cataloging or transport of those artifacts. McKay jumped up and reached for the artifact. He got a good grip on it and then grabbed an Ancient scanning device with his other hand. Its readout said that his hand was covered in the alien radiation. Having seen that, he reached for his jacket and wiped his hand on it thoroughly. Then, he scanned his hand and the coat. The radiation was now covering his jacket, like an invisible smudge of mud.

"Now, to run some tests," he said, starting to make a connection. He was about to grab the jacket when a large spot began glowing on the sleeve. A flash of light blinded him again and when he recovered, the jacket had vanished. "Not the jacket, too!" he yelled.

Minutes later, Weir and Major Lorne were standing in the lab. Lorne wandered towards the table that the artifact rested on, looking it over with detached interest.

"I've got it!" McKay announced triumphantly. "It's rather ingenious, actually."

"What is it, Rodney?"

"This radiation that Carson and I so readily named is not, in fact, radiation." He paused for a moment to make sure they were following. "It is a chemical with properties similar to radiation. It emits particles, but it destroys its own matter, not surrounding objects, which is why we were able to detect it and why it can slowly disappear over time."

"But what's the idea, Dr. McKay?" Lorne asked, not seeing why the chemical properties of this foreign substance were so important.

"I was getting to that. Only the people who touched this artifact here," he gestured to the disc next to the major, "have disappeared."

Lorne took a precautionary step away from the table.

"But how?" Weir asked, gazing at the disc.

"The chemical acts like a tracer, apparently. Anything it touches is "flagged" in a sense. It even took my best jacket," he added in a grumble, and then cleared his throat and continued. "Thankfully, I had transferred the chemical from my hand to the jacket before it was whisked away. Otherwise, I would not be here to talk about it. The device itself probably emits some kind of energy that counteracts the kind that transported Carson away to avoid being taken as well."

"So...it's like an alien elevator button?" Lorne asked hesitantly.

McKay sighed. Some people just couldn't appreciate science.

"Yes, in common terms."

"So, you're saying that the missing people are alive somewhere?" Weir asked, hopeful.

"I can't pretend to know what kind of effects this energy has on a person, but I think it's safe to assume that they are."

Weir looked relieved.

"That's the best news I've heard all day."

"But where does it go?" Lorne asked McKay. He was still keeping his distance from the artifact.

"There's only one way to find out."


	4. The Turn

Notes on Leadership

Chapter Four

"You're crazy!" Major Lorne sputtered. It was only after this outbreak that he realized that he had just stated what everyone on the base thought, but never wanted to say. "You want to...use the device?" His tone was incredulous.

"Major Lorne does make a point," Elizabeth Weir put in. "We don't know if the device transports to a black hole or some other place that's dangerous."

Rodney McKay put up his hands and his face took on that familiar look of scientific abandon, that confidence that no one else could possibly understand or improve on your plan.

"I'm open to any other ideas that you may have on returning the missing crew. If there are none, then we'll move on."

Weir looked at Lorne to see him shrugging. She felt a sense of small dismay. She had hoped that he would have had some clue as to what to do. Even though she was faced with impossible decisions every day, she still found making them difficult. Now that Sheppard was gone, she didn't have the usual common sense backup that he afforded when long-shot ideas were proposed. Rodney was suggesting a hazardous rescue attempt.

"I didn't think so," McKay finished with a glimmer of a smile. "Believe me, if we're going to find the others, then we have to take drastic steps."

"I'm not letting you go, Rodney. It's too dangerous. It's a brave notion to want to go, but we don't know anything about-"Weir began.

"Did I say anything about sending myself?" McKay looked shocked. "What kind of ridiculous idea is that?"

Weir felt a huge sense of relief.

"So what kind of drastic steps were you talking about?"

McKay rolled his eyes, feeling that he was explaining how to play tag. It's terribly obvious.

"Sending a radio transmitter to wherever the device transports would be the wisest course of action. If the others are there, they can contact us. Otherwise, we can get some idea of where it goes."

Weir felt a little embarrassed at having asked such a simple question, but she hid it and said, "Let's get going, then. Major Sheppard and the others need our help."

It didn't take long for McKay to set up the radio with a small recorder. In case the major and the scientists were elsewhere, then they could receive some information on the location of the transmitter. The final step was applying the chemical to it so that it would be picked up. Weir watched nearby.

"The only trouble is that I don't know how long it will take for the radio to be transported. As far as we know, it's a random occurrence."

Wearing gloves, he touched the surface of the artifact and then ran his hand along the side of the radio. After placing the radio on the table, he backed away and pulled off his gloves. Elizabeth waited breathlessly for anything to happen. Rodney frowned for a moment, which made her nervous.

"What's wrong?" she asked anxiously.

"The transmitter isn't turned on." He snatched up the pair of gloves and quickly went to the artifact.

"Wait!" Elizabeth cried. McKay flipped the switch on the recorder to the "on" position and then looked back at her.

"What? Don't worry, I'm always careful." McKay held up a gloved hand. He pulled off his left glove, staring at the artifact. Weir was about to speak when she suddenly she felt her skin crawl. The next instant, blinding brilliance filled the lab. She squinted against the intense light, trying to see the scientist. Only his silhouette against the blue energy could be seen. She struggled to reach him, but she had only taken one step when the light vanished, taking McKay with it.

Weir was shocked. McKay had been stolen away by the artifact just like the others, unsuspecting and unaware. Was he still alive? Were the others still alive? Hopelessness washed over her for a moment before she held it back. All she could do was wait for a message from the other side...if it would ever come.

McKay knew he was in trouble the instant he began pulling off the glove. He had seen the artifact begin to glow, along with the radio and his gloves. The room filled with the shining energy and he was aware of a peculiar sensation. He felt his right hand pulling him forward and for a surreal moment, he felt like someone was leading him by the hand on a pathway of stars.

The next stars that he saw were before his eyes as he felt himself collide with a solid object. His knees buckled involuntarily beneath him and he toppled. While his mind swam in a confusion of light and sensations, he lay still. After a minute or two passed, he felt relatively human again. He put out a probing hand and found that the solid object had been a wall. It took more than a little effort to get himself standing, but with the help of the newly discovered wall, he steadied himself. He was situated in a small dark room, the quality of which reminded him of janitor's closet. It was stocked with various boxes and strange tools. If he hadn't been in a possibly hostile place, he would have taken a moment to look over these items, but the circumstances did not warrant investigation. His ears picked up a familiar sound, but it took him longer to respond than he thought. Footsteps. Coming closer outside the door. McKay felt panic creeping up on him. His mind was still foggy from the trip, but he pushed the panic away quickly and chose the nearest pile of crates to duck behind. Listening very hard, he willed himself to stay put and not bolt. The door opened and McKay thought his heart stopped. For a tortuous moment, he could not hear anything except a pair of footsteps, coming closer and closer. McKay, wide-eyed and terrified, stiffened.

Then, he heard one of the tools being removed from the wall. The footfalls faded away and the door closed. A second later, McKay left out a huge sigh of relief. He remembered how much he hated being in the field. He wasn't even supposed to be there! He was also thinking that it would be unwise to stay there. He had a mission to find the others. If they were here, then he would discover them. At that time, he remembered the radio. It lay beside the wall where he had fallen, waiting to be picked up. It was, of course, absurd to be angry with an inanimate object, but McKay felt a grumbling at was in good order. Had it not been for the radio, he would have been safely in his lab, reading the data stream from the recorder, not in the thick of unknown territory without a weapon. Carson had always told him that life was full of surprises, but he was beginning to think that a boring life wouldn't be such a bad thing. He pressed the button to talk and cleared his throat.

"This is McKay. Does anybody read me?" he whispered into the radio. When his finger left the button, nasty static buzzed in his ear. "Anyone?"

He waited a moment, hoping that Weir would answer. There was a slight noise that fought through the static, but most of the volume was lost.

"Can't...not...interference-"

McKay adjusted the frequency, desperately fighting for a better signal. His corrections only made the voice fainter. It was no use. With a grim expression, he turned off the radio and attached it to his belt. He was on his own.

He had little to no idea on how to find Major Sheppard and the others. With any luck, he figured that he could draw on his superior knowledge to help him and manage to find a map, or some other device that could tell him where he was. Taking a deep breath, he inched towards the door. When he neared it, it slid open, revealing an unremarkable hallway that stretched to his left and right. To his immense relief, it was not a Wraith ship. However, the structure of the arches and the architecture was completely foreign to him. With a new sense of duty, but more a desperate desire to leave, he chose the hallway to his left. McKay slowly stepped down the corridor, checking for possible doorways or people around. His path was dimly lit, but he could see light spilling in from a window far ahead of him. All he could hear was a slight humming, but no indications of people nearby. In a minute, he reached the window. McKay in front of the window and froze, looking to the right. An alien ship hovered nearby. In a flash, McKay realized that he must be on a similar ship. His eyes shifted downwards, and he felt true panic set in at what he saw-Atlantis.

Rodney McKay considered himself to be a calm, collected person. Anyone watching at that moment would not have agreed. His eyes widened, his hands flew up, and his mouth opened, but no intelligible words came out, just some beginnings of words, an interesting scoffing noise, and then a muffled half-groan. This day was getting worse by the minute. It was the moment after that when he reminded himself of his location. If there was one thing that he wanted to avoid, it was looking idiotic when someone might be watching. Like on Telnus, when he couldn't figure out how to use their eating utensils. They had twittered in some other language and then laughed...oh, Sheppard had assured him that it was all in fun, but- He snapped back. There was no use going back over things that didn't matter. Besides, why bother learning how to use foreign silverware when you can reroute the power of a multi-subconverter with an adaptive conduit without blinking an eye?

McKay continued down the hallway, thoughts running through his mind at breakneck speed. So there were ships hovering over Atlantis...but how were they not seen? Rodney pondered this, and then the solution came to him. The clouds! Somehow, they were able to engineer the illusion of clouds to cloak their ships. No wonder the sky had been so clouded the past few days. But then, that must mean that they had been there for some time. Atlantis at risk was only one of his problems, though. It was only a matter of time before he would run into some of the inhabitants of the ship. They were unlikely candidates for pleasant encounters. He had to think of something, and fast. Part of his brain reminded him that he was a self-proclaimed genius, and it would be a cinch to get out of his predicament. The other part doubted his ability to be of any use.

"Come on, think!" he said fiercely to himself. He scanned the immediate area for any sign of help. There was nothing that looked promising. Then, his gaze wandered downwards. "Oh, come on," he groaned.

Major John Sheppard lay in a strange cell, hands secured tightly behind his back. His feet were also bound, but he was mostly frustrated that he had been gagged. There was something just downright degrading about not being able to talk back to your captors. While his mind was working on comprehending what had happened to him, he worked on freeing his hands. This effort was failing miserably, but counting tiles on the floor had ceased to amuse him after the first minute. The metal of the bonds bit cruelly into his wrists as he twisted this way and that. Where was he? Who were those people? And why were they so hostile? He hadn't asked to be transported anywhere, but they acted like he had dropped in intentionally. From what he could remember, he had managed to sputter out something about coming in peace, but the way that they had fallen on him convinced him that they didn't believe a word of it. His head still ached from the blow that one particularly big guy had given him. Sheppard grunted and lay still for a moment. There was no use in denying it. Short of a miracle, he was bound to be trapped in this prison for a long time, if not forever. Not to mention being in a terribly awkward position for that amount of time. His thoughts wandered. He didn't want to give up, but there was nothing that he could do to help himself. The others probably didn't know what had happened to him- not that he did either. He had walked back to his office after helping some of the scientists bring all the artifacts into the lab to catalog and research. He had just gotten a start on the ransom note for McKay's mouse when the man himself walked in. He had said some things while he had pretended to listen and promptly left. Then, Sheppard had felt a strange sensation in his hands. Glowing spots had appeared on them and on many of the papers on his desk. After that, he was standing in the middle of a room with unfriendly, and some confused, faces all around him, assorted papers at his feet and a pen in his hand. If McKay was doing this as some kind of joke, then he would be sure to let the scientist know how much he appreciated it the next time he saw him.

How long had he been in that cell? He had lost track of time as he lay still on the floor. Sheppard felt a small feeling of despair creeping up on him, but he tried to ward it off with some optimism. He had been in worse situations before. Besides, hoping for a miracle never hurt. He closed his eyes for a moment, telling himself that he would be back in the break room at Atlantis watching his favorite taped football game in no time. There was a small sound that began poking at the edge of his senses. It wasn't loud, but the silence that surrounded him made it deafening by comparison. He opened his eyes and looked around. Suddenly, a little part of the cell gave way and dropped to the floor. In alarm, Sheppard tried to get to his knees. He couldn't see far into the hole, but he could see that something was coming towards him out of the darkness. His mind instantly came up with dozens of wild explanations. It was some kind of alien creature that would eat him alive. It was an assassin robot that was systematically killing prisoners. It was a Wraith that happened to stow away on the ship and was now looking for lunch. It was...Rodney McKay.

Sheppard, in any other situation, would have rolled his eyes and made some sarcastic remark, but for once, he was genuinely happy to see the scientist. At first he cocked his head, not sure if what he was seeing was real. Then, McKay slid out of the hole and onto the floor. He was about to speak when he hesitated, then sneezed.

"Oh," he said after wrinkling his nose. He looked as surprised to see him as Sheppard was. It took him a moment to realize that Sheppard had no way of replying and then he pulled off the gag.

Sheppard swallowed deeply and nodded in thanks.

"How...?"

McKay's brow furrowed and he blinked a few times.

"I found you by pure luck. From what I could figure, I was going towards the main control deck. I guess my calculations were a little off." He seemed a little bewildered, as if he didn't know quite if he were dreaming or not.

"What happened, McKay?" Sheppard wanted to know.

"Apparently, you came in contact with an artifact that is covered with a substance that is used for transportation."

"Okay, that doesn't make a whole lot of sense. How'd you get here?"

"By mistake, I'm afraid. I was working on a transmitter-"

"Rodney, as much as I'd love to sit hear and hear the whole story, we've got to get out of here. Do you mind?" Sheppard indicated his bound hands and feet with his head.

"Oh, right." McKay crawled closer and took a look at his restraints. "It looks like there's a kind of electronic lock on these." He paused a moment, and then pulled the transmitter from his belt.

"What are you doing?" Sheppard asked, a little uneasy.

"I can use the power conduits in this transmitter to blow out the lock on your cuffs."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, it will either open the lock or make it impossible to take off without a blowtorch."

Sheppard's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Look," McKay looked him in the eye. "It's the only option. Either we try this or I go and find the others by myself and you stay here. It's a miracle that you're in one piece. We had no idea what the transportation device would do to the human physiology."

"Wait, there's others?"

"Yes..." It hadn't occurred to him that Sheppard would be totally unaware of the other missing people or the imminent attack on Atlantis. "You haven't seen them?"

"No. I've been locked up in here for who knows how long."

"We need to get moving." McKay was suddenly nervous about being caught. He thought he heard footsteps.

"That's what I said." With some reluctance, he added, "Do it."

McKay quickly took off the face of the transmitter and ran his fingers over the mess of wires on the inside. He selected two blue wires and pulled them from the motherboard. Then, he touched the ends of them to the metal bond on Sheppard's wrists, turning the transmitter switch to the "on" position. Sheppard flinched as the current snapped through the metal. To his surprise, he heard a faint click. McKay put aside the transmitter and pulled at the bond. It came off freely. Sheppard looked up, massaging his wrist, and saw that McKay was as relieved as he was that his MacGyver maneuver had worked. In a moment, Sheppard's feet were free as well. He was about to speak when voices came through the door.

"They're close," McKay said in a horrified whisper.

"Come on, McKay. Pull yourself together." Sheppard tried getting to his feet, but found them shaky and his head reeled. McKay threw one of his arms over his shoulder and pulled him up. In moments, he was following Sheppard into the hole in the wall. He reached down and picked up the fallen panel. With some difficulty, he replaced it, but it was a little too far into the wall. He tried gingerly pressing it out, afraid that it would fall back out.

"McKay!"

"But it's not-"

Sheppard's glare silenced him and he left it, continuing to crawl down the tunnel.

When they came to a junction in the passageways, they stopped. Sheppard pulled out a small flask of water and took a long, grateful drink.

"Ah...that's better," he said, leaning back against the metal wall. His eyes roved around their surroundings. He looked back at McKay, who was trying to count of all the close calls he had experienced in that day alone. "Air vents, huh?"

McKay shrugged.

"A bit cliché, I suppose. But it gets the job done."

"I know they always do that in spy movies, but I didn't think it was actually possible," Sheppard mused to himself, his voice trailing off. "Thanks for getting me out, Rodney."

"You're welcome," McKay said a little stiffly. He wasn't sure how to respond. Most people didn't thank him for saving Atlantis every time something went wrong and his ingenious plan saved the day. If he had a quarter for every time that happened, he could retire with style in a year.


	5. Cliches Come in Handy Sometimes

Notes on Leadership

Notes on Leadership

Chapter Five

Apparently Sheppard had only needed a little time and water to recover some of his usual self. He was now doing his best to keep his voice down as he got in Rodney's face.

"What do you mean you don't have a plan? You always have a plan!"

Rodney was shocked from his self-congratulation back to reality. Simply put, it was rough.

"Yeah, well, I just got here. There's alien ships hovering over Atlantis and they don't seem to come in peace. We're in an air shaft on an enemy ship. Do you think I've had time to think this out in detail? Surviving is the plan!" It was all he could do to keep from yelling.

Sheppard was about to retort when they heard the door of the cell open. McKay leaned closer to the grate, a kind of irresistible, morbid curiosity forcing him to look. Unfortunately, he had only glimpsed a dull orange shoulder when he felt himself being dragged, or rather yanked, back. Sheppard nodded sharply to his right. McKay shook his head and pointed towards the grate, where small patterns of light shone in. Sheppard pointed violently to the right, adding a menacing eyebrow raise. Unimpressed, McKay crossed his arms and leaned back. The words "Make Me," hung almost visibly above his head. Sheppard's shoulder drooped and he mouthed something that McKay didn't catch. Rodney spread his palms.

_What?_

Both stiffened as the voices rose in a crescendo. They had discovered their escape route. Sheppard started down the shaft to his right, quickly disappearing behind around a bend. McKay, frozen, found his genius brain fumbling for a course of action. It was on the verge of giving up and settling down in a corner with some nice interstellar physics. Sheppard's head materialized from around a corner, nodding fiercely. This time, Rodney's common sense came out of hiding and he scrambled towards the colonel. His feet cleared the corner just as the guards pulled the grate out, letting it crash to the hard floor. Sheppard and McKay waited, thoughts racing through their minds. Sheppard's were along the lines of taking on an entire prison detail force single-handed. Rodney's were more like being captured and forced to mop floors...or worse: forced to cut slices of lem-

His thoughts were interrupted as he ran into Sheppard.

"C'mon, they're gone," he whispered. "They'll sound the alarm. We've got to get outta here."

With a vague nod of agreement, McKay followed the colonel further into the labyrinth of shafts. He was thinking of other things to keep from dwelling on the fact that he was in a strange ship, hovering over Atlantis, being chased by people with highly questionable intentions, and crawling through dark...cramped...air shafts...again.

--

"Sheppard!" he breathed.

"What, Rodney?" came the voice from the scuffling noises ahead.

"What did you say? You know, back there?"

"Just that I never seem to have any citrus when you need some...motivation."

Rodney felt the blood drain from his face.

"You have...some?"

"No, Rodney. Now focus. We need a way out. How did you get here?"

Relieved, McKay found himself slipping back into his normal, irritable mood.

"I don't know. It's a little dark, if you hadn't noticed. I've never been here before, have you?"

"Turn left here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"No! It's just that there's a breeze coming from that direction. Could be a way out." Sheppard crawled towards a light breeze that seemed to be blowing from the shaft to his right. He made his way down for a few feet and then took a quick right. A powerful wind current from a spinning fan blasted his face, forcing him to quickly retreat. McKay was confronted by the sight of the colonel huffing for breath, hair blown back into a small black mane.

"I don't want to hear it, Rodney."

McKay had just about convinced himself that he would never see daylight again when Sheppard spotted light ahead. He wiped some sweat off his face with his sleeve, yearning for any kind of air other than stale, ventilation shaft air to breathe. He fought back the urge to push Sheppard out of the way and fall into the hallway beyond the grate. However, his overpowering sense of self-preservation warned him that it would be a huge mistake. Instead, Sheppard paused and watched for any sign of other life nearby. When it seemed that the coast was clear, he rammed his shoulder against the grate. With some persuasion, it gave way. Both men winced as the crash resounded through the corridor. Sheppard jumped out, looking both ways.

"Let's go, Rodney. Somebody'll have heard that."

The colonel set out at a brisk jog down the corridor, Rodney following behind. Ever curious, the Canadian found his eyes wandering around, taking in the alien decor. Such strange symbols were engraved into the walls. A prominent theme was a swirling design that recalled the artifact's icon. Lines swept over windows and doorways creating the effect of an eternal tide washing over the interior. Rodney was beginning the surmise that he could probably decode the symbols if he had his notes on the etymology of the Ancient language when he spotted something that was quite out of place. It was a piece of paper. Rodney stopped to pick it up. Sheppard, aware that Rodney was no longer right behind him, halted his pace for a moment to catch his breath.

"Come on, Rodney. We can't stop now," he called back to him.

Rodney, however, did not hear him. He was enraptured with the scrap of paper that he held between his hands.

_"What is this?!"_

Sheppard, having forgotten the tedious hours that he had passed so recently on Atlantis, found himself staring at the half-finished ransom note for McKay's mouse. The major was thinking of the life-and-death situation that they were in, not his practical joke. Rodney, who found it easier to try to ignore their dangerous predicament, found this piece of paper an excellent distraction. He was still staring at it when Sheppard began pulling him down the hallway.

"Wait! This is _your_ handwriting? It's...it's better than mine!" Rodney was stunned.

As Sheppard forced him behind a column, McKay was still looking at the paper. He was completely oblivious to the patrol that walked by that would have discovered them had the major not shoved him out of sight.

"You! You stole my mouse!" McKay glared at Sheppard.

"Yes, yes I did, Rodney. Now could you focus on the task at hand?" John Sheppard was getting frustrated with the scientist. He could be so short-sighted at times.

Pushing the letter into a pocket, McKay nodded. He would take the matter up with Sheppard when they were safe in Atlantis again...That is, if they made it back to Atlantis.

"Any idea where the others are?" Sheppard asked, looking up and down the corridor.

McKay had to admit that he did not.

"Apparently, the transportation device picks up the traces of the chemical from the artifact and takes whatever it is on to another place. I can only guess that the artifact that we found was left on a planet that these people had inhabited or visited recently. Clearly, it is calibrated to this particular ship and to a certain distance. Due to the patterns of the air currents around Atlantis, the ship probably drifted a little, resulting in my collision with the wall."

Sheppard knew better than to interrupt McKay when he was on a rant, so he merely lifted an eyebrow at the mention of his accidental entrance onto the ship.

"Now, we know that the others will be on this ship, and if we're lucky, somewhere in this area. Judging by the incrimination evidence found on the floor here, I'm guessing that you appeared somewhere around here."

Sheppard shrugged. He didn't remember much about the decor of the location where he had been so rudely captured.

"As much as I'd like to hear all about it, McKay, we really do have to get off this ship and warn Atlantis. I don't know why they haven't attacked the city yet, but it's only a matter of time."

McKay nodded in agreement. Without further ado, they began to search the ship for the other members of the Atlantis crew.

--

Two hours later, they dropped into an exhausted slump in a doorway. The sun had set and now the ship was lit dimly by blue lights shining up from the floor. They had seen no trace of any other prisoners. They were losing hope that they were still onboard or even alive. There was some relief in the fact that the activity on the ship had abated a little after the patrols had spent an hour looking for them. There had been a few close calls, but they were still in one piece and undiscovered.

McKay was about to break the silence when they heard the familiar sound of an approaching patrol. Their position was everything but invisible. Sheppard pulled his feet in and seemed to be listening. From the sound of the footsteps, it was a fairly small group. McKay looked questioningly at Sheppard, hoping that he could somehow pick up on his unspoken question, _What are we going to do?_

Sheppard did not reply, but shook his head once, and then returned to his listening. He heard low voices that sounded as if they were coming from the end of the hallway. As the patrol drew nearer, he heard another voice.

"Where are yeh takin' me?"

Both the major and McKay stiffened. Carson! Sheppard turned to McKay and pointed towards the radio on his belt. McKay didn't follow what he was meaning, but took it off and gave it to him. Sheppard grasped it and extended the antenna a little. Then, he pointed it at McKay like some kind of outlandish phaser. Instantly, McKay got the idea. With no weapons, they could do nothing to help Beckett. However, they could use the advantage of surprise and the aliens' unfamiliarity with their own technology to attempt a rescue. He nodded, pushing the two blue wires that he had pulled out earlier to free the major back into the plastic casing. The patrol was almost upon them. They had a few seconds before they would pass by.

As the patrol walked by, Sheppard and McKay could see that Beckett was being escorted by three guards. As soon as the group passed the door, McKay silently slipped to the other side of the doorway. Sheppard jumped out, calling out a dramatic, "Hold it!"

The effect was instantaneous. One of the guards grabbed Beckett and whipped around to face the major, who stood in the center of the hall, holding the radio threateningly. The guard holding Beckett held a weapon of some kind to the doctor's head. Carson, eyes wide with shock, held still. The other two prison escorts were about to pull out their weapons when Sheppard barked, "I said, freeze!"

Surprised at his boldness, the guards figured that the device in his hands might have something to do with his bravery. They decided not to test him. Sheppard, secretly relieved that his ruse was going so well, used his left hand to pull the antenna out a little further. One guard flinched and Sheppard flicked on the radio. It sputtered menacingly, hissing ferociously with static. The guards looked genuinely scared.

"Stop! Or I'll shoot him," the guard holding Beckett warned. The man pointed the weapon at Sheppard. "You have no choice. Drop your weapon."

Sheppard glanced momentarily at Rodney, hoping that he had a plan. The major didn't know what he had expected to come from their on-the-fly rescue attempt, but it was not going well. He pressed the on switch again, getting another round of loud crashing from the static. The guards were about to take a step back when the noise stopped abruptly and two blue wires popped out of the casing. In an instant, the situation had gone from bad to worse. Sheppard looked up to see a satisfied glimmer of a smile cross the face of the man holding Carson. He raised the weapon.

Suddenly, Carson turned and shoved his captor. As both fell, the weapon clattered to the floor. The other two guards reached for their guns. One, standing close to the edge of the doorway, had a split-second before he got a terrific blow to the face. Dazed, he fell to the floor. McKay dropped his shoe and grabbed the guard's weapon. Sheppard, taking full advantage of the other man's distraction from Rodney's surprise attack, threw the radio directly at his head. It missed, but by the time that he had turned around, Sheppard was upon him. In moments, they had subdued the guards. Rodney let out a sigh of relief as Sheppard drew near to them.

"Carson? Are you all right?"

The doctor nodded, looking relieved himself.

"Aye. Thanks."

Rodney was examining the bonds on Beckett's hands while Sheppard gathered the guns from the fallen guards.

"It was a good thing you did something, Beckett. I'm not sure what we would have done if you hadn't knocked him over."

"Ah had to do somethin'. Anyway, the look on their faces when yeh pulled out tha' radio was bloody brilliant." Carson looked back at McKay, who was frowning. "Rodney, yeh might want that shoe later on."

McKay glanced at the shoe absently and then retrieved the radio from where it had fallen. He sat back down next to Carson with the pieces in his hands, dejected.

"Well, I could have gotten those handcuffs off if this had been working. Looks like it broke when you tossed it at the wall, Sheppard."

"I wasn't aiming for the wall, for your information. It served its purpose, didn't it?"

Carson, mystified as to how a radio would be useful in freeing him, remained silent.

Rodney was about to start on a grumbling when Sheppard dropped a key into his hands.

"Not everything has to be hard, McKay."

Looking up, McKay's eyes saw beyond the major and his shoulders slumped. As Sheppard felt the barrel of a gun against his back, he heard Rodney mutter to himself, "Yes, yes it does."


End file.
